Chapter 5
Carmine watched me approach from his throne at the front of the hall.
After waking in the dungeon five minutes ago, I’d concluded there was no great excuse to have visited the dungeon and I was the wrong scale color for this gig.
But at least I’d delayed the inevitable by falling asleep.
From what I could tell, the actual mind of Tyran only existed in Carmine.
I’d seen Carmine plead with him more than once.
Also, Tyran hadn’t noticed when I was healed of his presence either time.
His power had operated mindlessly in me, overtaking me completely, but there didn’t seem to be any awareness between Tyran and satellite caches of his wrath curse in demons other than Carmine.
So, if I lined up my actions with what I assumed Tyran’s agenda to be, then perhaps I could bullshit a really smart demon who was about five thousand years older than me?
Maybe?
It was all I had.
Like I said, I had the wrong colored scales for this gig.
I sat on the throne next to Carmine. “Sleep well, mate?”
His eyes were on me, and I met them, noticing the brightness of the ring of crimson around the gray irises.
“A more comfortable sleep than you, I imagine.” Carmine reached over the spikes of his throne to rest a hand on my thigh.
Dang. He was going to use our truth touch.
“Anything the matter?” I murmured.
“Why?”
I shivered inwardly at his icy tone. Then I set my thoughts on what I wanted to do to Tyran. I wanted to kill him in the most painful way. “I went down there in revenge after what you did. Then I fell asleep.”
The loophole to our truth touch? Vagueness. Misdirection.
The spikes covering his throne didn’t allow for Carmine to lean closer. “What did I do?”
I arched a brow. “You don’t remember the dream? You booted me out.”
Tyran searched my expression. He could feel the warmth from the truth I’d told, but he hadn’t known about the dream.
Good.
That meant Carmine hadn’t told him, and without that, Tyran hadn’t known. Carmine and I never spoke in the dream—that had to be why. Or had Carmine otherwise blocked him?
“You don’t like the dungeons,” I said next. “I knew you wouldn’t follow me there.”
“Why didn’t you wish for me to follow?”
“I didn’t really care if you did or not. Both outcomes would have gotten me what I wanted.”
Warmth continued to radiate between us.
“Revenge,” Tyran said.
Because Tyran was who I saw in this moment. I didn’t see my mate. I was speaking to another being. “That’s right.”
He tilted his head. “How long have you sought revenge against me?”
“I went to the dungeons on a whim after you kicked me out of the dream.”
His lips curved. “Answer the question.”
Shit. How to answer that?
I frowned. “I don’t know.” I glanced up at him. “Why do I want revenge?”
Denial. I’d used it before, and it had served me well.
The truth touch ran hot and cold by turn. What would he make of that?
Tyran released my arm and leaned back on his throne. He studied me in silence, and I watched as his face hardened and his eyes shifted.
I’d been going for the “I’m not in control of my mind, and I’m confused by my actions” vibe, but I had a feeling Tyran had made a different interpretation.
Was he deciding my innocence? Innocence left the building years ago. He was trying to gauge my measure of guilt. Trying to decide whether he needed to control me.
His ire was cold enough to freeze me on the spot. Luckily I wasn’t wearing a loincloth.
I snorted.
“Something amuses you?” he asked.
Loincloths. But I was one misplaced look from earning an iron ball and chain around my ankle. Instead, I needed to ask, “What would Tyran do?”
Tyran’s power wanted to control the leader and any threat to the throne. He wouldn’t kill me because I increased his power through the mating, and also…
“Something does amuse me. Not only am I the only one who can neutralize my sister’s power, but I can also summon an army of the dead.
An army who, from memory, beat your entire army, and you too.
If you’re wondering how to control or punish me, then I suggest you try the opposite.
You need me, and if you’re not going to give me what I need, then I have no reason to help you win this war.
I’ll stand back and watch you lose, then win the fight myself. ”
Instead of erupting, Tyran appeared to consider my words.
I didn’t like the expression on his face. I turned to the breakfast table, as if my heart wasn’t beating against my ribs.
His fingers turned my face back, and no sooner had I cocked a brow, than the back of his other hand whipped across my cheek.
My ears rang as blood pounded into my head. Gasps hissed through the dining hall from the surrounding demons.
Tyran leaned forward as I tried to gather my scattered senses. He whispered, “Eat your breakfast. Then I expect you in war council.”
Tyran rose and left the dining hall, and I forced myself to regain a semblance of calm for the onlookers. My gaze flicked to Tsan’s. His expression was carefully smooth. Smart. Not good to show loyalty in this room.
As if nothing had happened, I piled fruit and toasted tof grain onto my plate. I chewed—with the left side of my jaw instead of the right—and contemplated that Tyran only struck me once. Not at full strength, either, judging by the fact I’d remained in my seat.
I’d visited the dungeons that he refused to allow Carmine in.
His punishment wasn’t nearly big enough for my act of rebellion.
Carmine must feel fucking terrible right now, but in reality…
a backhand wasn’t too bad a tradeoff for my dungeon adventure.
Just more incentive to kill Tyran as painfully as possible.
If I hadn’t openly challenged him, then I might’ve gotten away without any punishment. Or had that been the part that convinced him not to chain me to the wall?
I paused my chewing.
Or was he trying to downplay what my visit to the dungeons meant to him? Was he scared of making me more curious if he gave full rein to his rage?
That had to be it.
He didn’t want me to pursue the dungeons. He was worried. So I was onto something, and I had to be careful. Tyran had downplayed one visit, but I doubted he’d let another slide if I proved to him that my curiosity was strong.
I took my time eating breakfast, and only when my face had healed did I rise and leave the nearly empty dining hall.
War council.
Goodie.
He wanted to keep me in sight.
Tsan was waiting outside the hall. I joined my friend in an empty room.
“I guess you weren’t discussing dinner plans,” he muttered.
I summoned my silence barrier, and it was no surprise when ghosts appeared instead of the usual shimmering wall.
My lucky yellow scanned the circle of undead standing shoulder to shoulder. “Who are your friends?”
“They specialize in keeping conversations private.” My attention was stolen as a new ghost appeared.
He tapped one of the cheerful ghosts on the shoulder, who blanched at the sight of the serious newcomer and quickly faded from sight.
The new ghost stepped forward to fill the gap in the circle, and I eyed the crown upon his head.
Tsan cleared his throat. “Great. Handy. Nice of them to… help.”
I tore my focus from the new ghost, who I could only guess had once been a demon king.
Why was he here? I was certain that time would tell.
“I went to the dungeon last night. I picked up signs of Hge’s past. Tsan, this guy is important.
Way more than expected. When I tried to summon his ghost, he didn’t respond. Which means he didn’t die there.”
Tsan pursed his lips. “That’s not what the king said. He said that Hge was killed for sport before his eyes.”
That was what I’d recalled too. “I know, but Carmine either lied or doesn’t know what really happened.
There was a trail of Hge’s past that led deep underground.
Maybe that has something to do with how he left.
Or maybe my father tricked Carmine for some reason.
I want to check whether any dungeon records exist. There may be a clue in them. ”
“I can do that.”
I shook my head. “You can’t erase signs of your presence.
If someone checks the records after, they’ll notice you were there.
Carmine’s onto me, so we need to be careful.
I don’t think you should ask around about Hge.
I’m wondering if you should get out of the fortress entirely.
Things are reaching a head with Carmine.
I have power that he needs in the war, but he won’t relinquish the illusion of total control in the minds of his subjects. Things may get ugly.”
Tsan shrugged a shoulder. “It’s never been pretty. When I came to the fortress, it was with the knowledge that I likely wouldn’t leave. I’m willing to take risks, and you know why.”
To avenge his mate.
Guilt swam in my gut.
I nodded. “Okay, then keep searching for the gems.”
“I will,” he said. “Mind opening me a portal to the shack? I’d rather search without Athira for company.”
I grinned, then opened a portal to the desert shack. “I’m yet to meet anyone who does wish for her company, funnily enough.”
He smirked, then stepped through, and I erased the signs of my portal after closing it, and then erased the signs of Tsan too.
I dropped my barrier of ghosts, then left the room.
And froze at the sight of Carmine.
His gaze shot over my shoulder into the room, and I held my breath until he returned his gaze to mine. He couldn’t sense anything.
And I hadn’t sensed him out here because I foolishly hadn’t been tracking his location.
I couldn’t let this happen again.
“Who was in there with you?” Carmine asked. No, there was iciness in his voice. I was speaking to Tyran again.
I lifted my chin. “I was taking a moment to collect myself before the war council.”
I wrenched my arm away as he blurred to grab it and confirm the truth of my statement.